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Queen of Northgales, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Out Isles. Choose, then, at once, for else shall thou abide here, in this prison, till thy death.”

“It is a hard case,” said Sir Lancelot, “that either I must die, or choose one of you for my mistress! Yet had I rather die in this prison than serve any living creature against my will. So take this for my answer. I will serve none of ye, for ye be false enchantresses. And as for my lady, Queen Guinevere, whom lightly ye have spoken of, were I at liberty I would prove it upon you or upon yours she is the truest lady living to her lord the king.”

“Well,” said the queen, “is this your answer, that ye refuse us all?”

“Yea, on my life,” said Lancelot, “refused ye be of me.”

So they departed from him in great wrath, and left him sorrowfully grieving in his dungeon.

At noon the damsel came to him and brought his dinner, and asked him as before, “What cheer?”

“Truly, fair damsel,” said Sir Lancelot, “in all my life never so ill.”

“Sir,” replied she, “I grieve to see ye so, but if ye do as I advise, I can help ye out of this distress, and will do so if you promise me a boon.”

“Fair damsel,” said Sir Lancelot, “right willingly will I grant it thee, for sorely do I dread these four witch-queens, who have destroyed and slain many a good knight with their enchantments.”

Then said the damsel, “Sir, wilt thou promise me to help my father on next Tuesday, for he hath a tournament with the King of Northgales, and last Tuesday lost the field through three knights of King Arthur’s court, who came against him. And if next Tuesday thou wilt aid him, to-morrow, before daylight, by God’s grace, I will deliver thee.”

“Fair maiden,” said Sir Lancelot, “tell me thy father’s name and I will answer thee.”

“My father is King Bagdemagus,” said she.

“I know him well,” replied Sir Lancelot, “for a noble king and a good knight; and by the faith of my body I will do him all the service I am able on that day.”

“Grammercy to thee, Sir knight,” said the damsel.

“To-morrow, when thou art delivered from this place, ride ten miles hence unto an abbey of white monks, and there abide until I bring my father to thee.”

“So be it,” said Sir Lancelot, “as I am a true knight.”

So she departed, and on the morrow, early, came again, and let him out of twelve gates, differently locked, and brought him to his armour; and when he was all armed, she brought him his horse also, and lightly he saddled him, and took a great spear in his hand, and mounted and rode forth, saying, as he went, “Fair damsel, I shall not fail thee, by the grace of God.”

And all that day he rode in a great forest, and could find no highway, and spent the night in the wood; but the next morning found his road, and came to the abbey of white monks. And there he saw King Bagdemagus and his daughter waiting for him. So when they were together in a chamber, Sir Lancelot told the king how he had been betrayed by an enchantment, and how his brother Lionel was gone he knew not where, and how the damsel had delivered him from the castle of Queen Morgan le Fay. “Wherefore while I live,” said he, “I shall do service to herself and all her kindred.”

“Then am I sure of thy aid,” said the king, “on Tuesday now next coming?”

“Yea, sir, I shall not fail thee,” said Sir Lancelot; “but what knights were they who last week defeated thee, and took part with the King of Northgales?”

“Sir Mador de la Port, Sir Modred, and Sir Gahalatine,” replied the king.

“Sir,” said Sir Lancelot, “as I understand, the tournament shall take place but three miles from this abbey; send then to me here, three knights of thine, the best thou hast, and let them all have plain white shields, such as I also will; then will we four come suddenly into the midst between both parties, and fall upon thy enemies, and grieve them all we can, and none will know us who we are.”

So, on the Tuesday, Sir Lancelot and the three knights lodged themselves in a small grove hard by the lists. Then came into the field the King of Northgales, with one hundred and sixty helms, and the three knights of King Arthur’s court, who stood apart by themselves. And when King Bagdemagus had arrived, with eighty helms, both companies set all their spears in rest and came together with a mighty clash, wherein were slain twelve knights of King Bagdemagus, and six of the King of Northgales; and the party of King Bagdemagus was driven back.

Sir Lancelot smote down with one spear five knights, and brake the backs of four, and cast down the King of Northgales.

With that, came Sir Lancelot, and thrust into the thickest of the press, and smote down with one spear five knights, and brake the backs of four, and cast down the King of Northgales, and brake his thigh by the fall. When the three knights of Arthur’s court saw this, they rode at Sir Lancelot, and each after other attacked him; but he overthrew them all, and smote them nigh to death. Then taking a new spear, he bore down to the ground sixteen more knights, and hurt them all so sorely, that they could carry arms no more that day. And when his spear at length was broken, he took yet another, and smote down twelve knights more, the most of whom he wounded mortally, till in the end the party of the King of Northgales would joust no more, and the victory was cried to King Bagdemagus.

Then Sir Lancelot rode forth with King Bagdemagus to his castle, and there he feasted with great cheer and welcome, and received many royal gifts. And on the morrow he took leave and went to find his brother Lionel.

Anon, by chance, he came to the same forest where the four queens had found him sleeping, and there he met a damsel riding on a white palfrey. When they had saluted each other, Sir Lancelot said, “Fair damsel, knowest thou where any adventures may be had in this country?”

“Sir knight,” said she, “there are adventures great enough close by if thou darest prove them.”

“Why should I not,” said he, “since for that cause I came here?”

“Sir,” said the damsel, “hard by this place there dwelleth a knight that cannot be defeated by any man, so great and perilously strong he is. His name is Sir Turquine, and in the prisons of his castle lie three score knights and four, mostly from King Arthur’s court, whom he hath taken with his own hands. But promise me, ere thou undertakest their deliverance, to go and help me afterwards, and free me and many other ladies that are distressed by a false knight.” “Bring me but to this felon Turquine,” quoth Sir Lancelot, “and I will afterwards fulfil all your wishes.”

So the damsel went before, and brought him to a ford, and a tree whereon a great brass basin hung; and Sir Lancelot beat with his spear-end upon the basin, long and hard, until he beat the bottom of it out, but he saw nothing. Then he rode to and fro before the castle gates for well-nigh half an hour, and anon saw a great knight riding from the distance, driving a horse before him, across which hung an armed man bound. And when they came near, Sir Lancelot knew the prisoner for a knight of the Round Table. By that time, the great knight who drove the prisoner saw Sir Lancelot, and each of them began to settle his spear, and to make ready.

“Fair sir,” then said Sir Lancelot, “put off that wounded knight, I pray thee, from his horse, and let him rest while thou and I shall prove our strength upon each other; for, as I am told, thou doest, and hast done, great shame and injury to knights of the Round Table. Wherefore, I warn thee now, defend thyself.”

“If thou mayest be of the Round Table,” answered Turquine, “I defy thee, and all thy fellows.”

“That is saying overmuch,” said Sir Lancelot.

Then, setting their lances in rest, they spurred their horses towards each other, as fast as they could go, and smote so fearfully upon each other’s shields, that both their horses’ backs brake under them. As soon as they could clear their saddles, they took their shields before them, and drew their swords, and came together eagerly, and fought with great and grievous strokes; and soon they both had many grim and fearful wounds, and bled in streams. Thus they fought two hours and more, thrusting and smiting at each other, wherever they could hit.

Anon, they both were breathless, and stood leaning on their swords.

“Now, comrade,” said Sir Turquine, “let us wait awhile, and answer me what I shall ask thee.”

“Say on,” said Lancelot.

“Thou art,” said Turquine, “the best man I ever met, and seemest like one that I hate above all other knights that live; but if thou be not he, I will make peace with thee, and for sake of thy great valour, will deliver all the three score prisoners and four who lie within my dungeons, and thou and I will be companions evermore. Tell me, then, thy name.”

“Thou sayest well,” replied Sir Lancelot; “but who is he thou hatest so above all others?”

“His name,” said Turquine, “is Sir Lancelot of the Lake; and he slew my brother Sir Carados, at the dolorous tower; wherefore, if ever I shall meet with him, one of us two shall slay the other; and thereto I have sworn by a great oath. And to discover and destroy him I have slain a hundred knights, and crippled utterly as many more, and many have died in my prisons; and now, as I have told thee, I have many more therein, who all shall be delivered, if thou tell me thy name, and it be not Sir Lancelot.”

“Well,” said Lancelot, “I am that knight, son of King Ban of Benwick, and Knight of the Round Table; so now I defy thee to do thy best!”

“Aha!” said Turquine, with a shout, “is it then so at last! Thou art more welcome to my sword than ever knight or lady was to feast, for never shall we part till one of us be dead.”

Then did they hurtle together like two wild bulls, slashing and lashing with their shields and swords, and sometimes falling both on to the ground. For two more hours they fought so, and at the last Sir Turquine grew very faint, and gave a little back, and bare his shield full low for weariness. When Sir Lancelot saw him thus, he leaped upon him fiercely as a lion, and took him by the crest of his helmet, and dragged him to his knees; and then he tore his helmet off and smote his neck asunder.

Then he arose, and went to the damsel who had brought him to Sir Turquine, and said, “I am ready, fair lady, to go with thee upon thy service, but I have no horse.”

“Fair sir,” said she, “take ye this horse of the wounded knight whom Turquine but just now was carrying to his prisons, and send that knight on to deliver all the prisoners.”

So Sir Lancelot went to the knight and prayed him for the loan of his horse.

“Fair lord,” said he, “ye are right welcome, for to-day ye have saved both me and my horse; and I see that ye are the best knight in all

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